Promise (20 page)

"Hmm…you're more fragile than I realized,"
Tristan said. I looked at his face, trying to understand the grim
tone. "I must be extra careful with you from now on."

***

I was disappointed but also relieved that
Tristan had to cancel the plans for Orlando. I knew there'd be more
opportunities, but I thought a weekend away, just the two of us,
may take us to the next level…we'd have sex, in other words. I'd
been thinking about sex a lot. I knew our relationship was serious
enough for this to become a hot topic anytime now. I'd never really
planned my first time…though many times I wondered, when I was
younger, if I'd ever
have
a first time…so I had not
specifically decided to keep my virginity until I was married. In
fact, I wasn't sure if I thought that was fair to either party. Mom
had repeatedly lectured me about how it was the most important gift
I could ever give and I could only give it once, "So you make it
count." I thought I'd know when the right person and right time
came along, whether it was before marriage or on my wedding day.
Now I was torn.

I knew the right person had come along, but I
hadn't yet figured out the right time. Every time we'd get
passionate, my body would scream to continue. But my mind—and
Tristan's self-control—always won and I always felt relieved it
ended that way. I didn't want to regret it when it did happen. I
wanted to know for sure it was right and not just hormones taking
over. Tristan helped. He had his own issues to deal with—like
trying not to kill me. We would go a little longer and get a little
further each time before he had to stop.

Not until late March did it even become a
discussion between the two of us. It was a memorable night—for more
than one reason—at the end of Spring Break, which I had used to
finally finish the book. It was just the first draft, but the story
was finally out of my head. Tristan took me out on the boat and
then to his place so he could make me a celebratory dinner. At
least, that's the reason he'd given me.

After dinner, we went out to the beach to
watch the sunset. Unlike the beach by Mom's cottage, this one was
empty. Beaches were generally public property, but people assumed
those in front of the big houses were private. Tristan spread a
blanket out for us and I sat down facing the water. He usually sat
behind me so he could hold me, but this time he kneeled in front of
me, his back to the sunset.

"You're, uh, facing the wrong way," I pointed
out the obvious.

"I prefer this view," he said with a stunning
smile. It was cheesy, but I fell for it anyway and smiled sappily
at him. His smile faded as he seemed to be thinking hard about
something. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure…you can always
ask
."

He ignored my old answer. "How do you see the
rest of your life?"

"Oh. Huh." He caught me off guard.

We hadn't really discussed this, at least
seriously, since that night I learned there was more in store for
my life than I ever realized. The night I learned I could possibly
have true love, but nothing else about my future would go as
planned. No settled family life in a comfortable home with normal
kids who played sports or music or danced and had lots of friends
who came to our house to play. Instead, I had a future that may or
may not include writing, may or may not include love and may or may
not include children…but would definitely encompass moving
frequently, possibly running from danger and whatever else would
happen after the
Ang'dora
. And my time stretched out long
before me, possibly hundreds of years or more, if I was anything
like Mom or Tristan.

"Well, that's a long time you're talking
about. You mean my immediate future or later, after…?"

"Both. The
rest
of your life."

"Hmm…well, I have no idea what it'll be like
after, unless it's just more of the same, since that's how Mom's
life is. I'd still like to write. And I definitely still want real,
soul-mate love and a family…if that's possible."

"What if I can make it possible? Can you see
me in the rest of your life?"

I took a moment to seriously consider it—not
that I hadn't already. I'd thought about it many times, but now I
had to answer him. And I still came to the same conclusion.
Although I didn't even know what it was like to be with anyone
else, I just couldn't imagine feeling stronger love for another
man. I just didn't think it was possible. Our connection was too
deep. Just
who
we were told me we were meant to be
together.

"I definitely want you to be in it." I
searched his face, trying to figure out why he brought this up now.
His eyes sparkled brightly and a smile played on his luscious lips.
"I said 'soul-mate love' and I still believe you are my soul
mate."

"And I know you are mine." He took a deep
breath. "So, Alexis Katerina Ames…will you do me the honor of
allowing me to spend the rest of my life with you? Will you marry
me?"

He held his hand out and opened a small box
to reveal a ring. The air caught in my throat and my heart stopped
beating. I couldn't even see the ring clearly as tears filled my
eyes. I looked at him instead, his eyes serious and pleading. So
loving. So damn beautiful.

I froze.
He did not…? Oh, yes, he did!
Oh, my!!

"Oh…" I finally breathed.
Speak, stupid,
or he'll take it the wrong way.
"Um…yes…of course…Yes, Tristan
Knight, I would love to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Thank you," he breathed with relief.
Did
he expect any other answer?
He slid the ring on my finger and
before I could get a good look at it, he took my face in his hands
and kissed me passionately.

We fell back on the blanket and his hand slid
down to my neck, around my shoulder and down my side as our kisses
became more fervent. He held my waist and our lips and tongues
continued their dance. His mouth traveled slowly down to my neck,
kissing and sucking, his hand gliding up the front of my stomach,
sliding over my breast. A small sound slipped through my throat. He
gently cupped and caressed my breast, moving his lips slowly over
my skin to the opening in my blouse, slipping his tongue under it.
One of my hands clawed at his back while the other twisted in his
hair.

With one hand, he undid my two top buttons,
enough to expose my chest, and kissed around the tops of my bra on
both breasts. He traced the birthmark—a strange design of slightly
lighter pigment—over my left breast with his finger, then his lips,
kissing and sucking. I tugged at the bottom of his shirt and he
pulled it over his head as I undid the last buttons of my blouse,
letting it fall open. He pressed his body down, so hot and hard
against me. His lips found mine again, sucking and tugging, his
hand between us on my breast, his fingers slipping under my bra.
With so much skin-to-skin contact, the electricity stimulated every
nerve. I couldn't control the moan or the spasm as my pelvis jerked
against him.

And that was the breaking point.

He groaned and pounded his fist into the sand
next to me. He sat up on his knees over me and I started to reach
up and touch his bare chest and stomach. He was so beautiful, so
perfect. Except his eyes. Fire burned within them. I dropped my
hand. He stood up and strode away without a word. I lay there,
drawing ragged breaths, staring at the darkening sky. My heart
raced and the blood throbbed in delicate places. After several
minutes, I finally buttoned my blouse with trembling fingers and
sat up. The sky had darkened enough that I couldn't see him
anywhere. I picked up the blanket and his shirt and headed
inside.

Tristan wasn't in there, so I sat on a
kitchen chair and waited. His house wasn't quite home to me, not
like Mom's cozy cottage. The more time I spent with him and the
more time we spent at his house, though, the more it grew on me. Or
maybe I was growing into it. The cottage was small and warm and
soft, like childhood. Tristan's house was large and new and
angular—modern and very adult-like. As the newly placed ring on my
finger indicated, I had grown up and would soon be starting a new
life with Tristan. This house would become my home.

I studied the stunning ring he'd slid on my
finger. The main diamond was square and large but not gaudy and it
was set with marquis diamonds and blue sapphires on each side. The
band was either silver or platinum—knowing Tristan, it had to be
platinum—with an unusual design around the large diamond. I twisted
my hand, letting the light hit the diamonds and create tiny
rainbows dancing around me, when he finally walked in.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, dropping to his
knees in front of me. His face looked pained, his eyes sad. I
raised my hand to his face and stroked his cheek with my
fingertips.

"You can't help it."

He hung his head. "I should be able to. What
kind of boyfriend or
husband
can I be for you?"

I put my hands on his shoulders, leaned over
and whispered in his ear. "I'm not ready yet anyway. You'll be fine
when the time is right. And that's when we'll get married."

He looked at me appreciatively. "I don't
deserve you. And you certainly don't deserve me."

I frowned. "Tristan, don't talk like that.
It's just an obstacle we'll eventually get over."

Disbelief overcame his face and he was
suddenly on his feet, striding around the room. "
Just an
obstacle?
Do you realize what I can
do
to you?"

With hardly any force, just a twitch of his
wrist, his fist hit the wall and pieces of concrete fell to the
floor, leaving a divot with cracks spreading from it. I froze in my
chair. He glared at me.

"I'm under control right now, Alexis, and
that's what I do without meaning to. You wanted to know some of my
abilities, I'll show you."

He flicked his hand and the table next to
me—ten feet from him—rose off the floor then crashed to the ground.
The wooden legs broke into pieces under the weight of the marble
top. He twitched his finger. The chair next to me slid across the
concrete floor to him. He picked it up and a leg splintered into
pieces with a squeeze of his hand. He threw the splinters at the
window. They pierced through the concrete in a neat row across the
window's encasement.

"That's not much, but should give you an
idea. And you…you are so
breakable
. Imagine what I could to
do to you if I lost control!" His voice filled with anger, but his
eyes held no fire.

"But you wouldn't! You
couldn't
!" I
nearly screamed.

In a flash, he stood in front of me, looking
down at me. Power emanated in waves from his body, but I didn't
shrink away. He growled, "Don't underestimate the force that lies
beneath."

"And you don't underestimate the power of our
love!" I stood up on the chair and glared into his eyes. "You
love
me! You know our love is more powerful than anything
else."

His face twisted and his voice rose. "Don't
you
get
it? It's not something I would do
intentionally
! But if I
ever
lost control and hurt
you, I would not be able to
live
with myself."

"I can heal!"

"You don't know that! What if I crush your
bones? Crack your skull?"

"Don't talk like that! I will be fine. And so
will you!"

"And if I
kill
you?" he snarled.

"Tristan, stop it!
You will
not
kill me! I won't let you do that to yourself!"
I pounded my
fists on his chest. It was hard as rock.

His hand twitched and the marble top of the
kitchen table he'd just broken lifted from the floor. It hovered
threateningly in the air near me. I knew he wouldn't do anything to
me, but it aggravated me how he held it there.

"And what are
you
going to do about
it?" he snarled.

"WHATEVER I NEED TO DO TO PROTECT US!" I
grabbed the marble slab with both hands and hurled it across the
room. It hit the concrete wall with a deafening crack and crashed
loudly to the floor. The noise echoed off the walls, sounding like
gun shots.

Followed by silence.

We both stared at it for at least a minute,
too shocked to remember our anger.

"Did you just…?" He looked from the wall to
me and back to the wall in amazement.

I tilted my head, still staring at the marble
slab. "Um…yeah…I just did."

"You know that slab weighs at least
three-hundred pounds?" I felt him staring at me.

"Really? Huh." I looked at him. "Well, what
you did was a lot weirder—all that levitation crap and those
splinters in the concrete. I've heard of tornadoes doing similar
things, but…"

"I'm sorry. I wanted you to know, but I
didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me, you idiot, you just
really pissed me off. My whole point is I'm not afraid of you
because I trust that
we
will win together."

He grabbed me in a hug, pulling me off the
chair, and buried his face in my hair. "I'm sorry."

"I know." I kissed his cheek and he turned
his head to kiss me on the lips. We started to get into it again
when he had to pull back in frustration. There was no fire in his
eyes; he wasn't losing control. But we both knew we couldn't carry
on.
No make-up sex tonight.

"One of these days, we
will
make
love," he promised.

"I know." I smiled. "Hey, we get to go a
little more each time, you know. We'll get there. I have faith in
you. Maybe by our wedding night…"

"We're not getting married until I
can
be a real husband to you."

"That sounds like a good deal for us both.
Because I know by our wedding night, I will be ready. And it will
be our wedding present to each other." I smiled at the thought.